


The Fronde

by Likemycoffee



Series: Brothers [1]
Category: Versailles (TV 2015)
Genre: Anne of Austria - Freeform, Gen, Riots, rebellion of nobles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-13
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 11:50:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11184507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Likemycoffee/pseuds/Likemycoffee
Summary: Ten year old Louis and eight year old Philippe are forced to flee Paris when the nobles' rebellion threatens their safety.





	The Fronde

1649 - The Louvre, Paris. 

It was dark. The candle had burnt out some time ago and the noise outside was growing louder. Philippe was trying his hardest not to be afraid. He was eight years old. He wasn't a baby anymore. Nighttime noises from the Paris streets shouldn't trouble him but Philippe knew these were not ordinary noises from the Paris streets.

He didn't understand what was happening, not fully at least, but he wasn't stupid. He listened when people talked and the adults, the servants, his governess and even his mother's advisers, were rather stupid for thinking that 'Le petit Monsieur' who appeared to be concentrating so hard on his Latin book or his dance practice or even his game of soldiers was not in fact avidly taking in every word that they said in whispered conversation. 

Philippe knew that the people of France were unhappy. The riots were nothing new. Philippe had grown up hearing talk of riots but they had always been far removed from him; in parts of the country that he had never seen and only knew by name from the maps his tutor made him and Louis study in their lessons, but now the riots were close at hand. They were happening in Paris and this time it was the nobles - people that Philippe knew by sight, some of whom had patted him on the head and given him sweet treats on the rare occasions when he was allowed to stand beside his mother and brother at formal events - who were unhappy. 

There was a loud bang from outside Philippe's window. It sounded close by and a moment later there were footsteps in the hallway outside his bedroom door.

'Philippe?'

Louis. 

Philippe sat up and looked at his brother, dressed only in his nightgown, his feet bare, his eyes wide. 

'Are you afraid?' Philippe whispered to his elder brother.

'No,' Louis shook his head. 'Of course not. I just wanted to make sure that you were not afraid.'

There was another bang from outside, closer than before and Louis gasped and ran to the bed, climbing in beside Philippe and both boys pulled the covers up over their heads. 

'What's happening?' Philippe whispered. 

'It's the rioters,' Louis told him, in equally hushed tones. 'They are close, I think. By the river.'

'What do they want?'

'What do they always want?' Louis replied. 'To destroy us and take what is ours.'

'Do they want to take you?' Philippe asked. He had heard talk among the servants that his mother was worried; that the nobles might try to capture his brother and make him agree to their demands. 

'I don't know,' Louis replied. 'Maybe. Perhaps both of us.'

Philippe's eyes went wide. 'Me?'

'You are my heir,' Louis told him and Philippe swallowed hard. It was something that wasn't spoken of often and it wasn't that Philippe forgot exactly that he was first in line to the throne, but he was so used to everyone and everything being focused on Louis that he didn't think about it, if Louis were to die that he would be the king. He was starkly reminded of it now. 

A sound like a gunshot rang through the night. Philippe closed his eyes tight and he felt Louis taking his hand in his. 'Mother will stop them won't she?' Philippe asked. 

'Of course,' Louis replied with the certainty of a child who believes their mother is all powerful. 'Mother and the Cardinal will stop them and when I am old enough I will make them pay.'

More footsteps outside in the corridor. 

'Your Majesty? Your Highness?' Philippe recognised the voice of their governess, Madame de Souvre. Both king and prince called out to her and she entered the bed chamber. When Philippe saw her face his fear immediately compounded. He had never seen Madame de Souvre looking so afraid. 

'You must both get dressed,' she told them. 'Your mother the Queen Regent is asking for you.'

'What is going on?' Louis demanded and Philippe could tell his brother was doing his best to appear kingly and in control. 

'I do not know Sire,' Madame de Souvre replied. 'The rebels are drawing closer to the palace.'

Philippe found himself being hurriedly bundled into clothes and boots by a valet he did not recognise and then he was taken downstairs alongside his brother. Philippe thought that the noise of the rebels was growing louder now that he was away from the familiar safety of his bed chamber. Louis was surrounded by Cardinal Mazarin's guards and both boys were led through into the council chamber, a room Philippe was usually forbidden from entering, where he saw his mother, Queen Anne, her face ashen as she gazed upon her two sons.

'We are leaving Paris,' she told them. 'It is no longer safe. We are going to Sainte-Germain.'

Philippe turned to look at his brother and he saw Louis swallow hard but he kept his composure. Philippe felt tears prickling his eyes but he fought the urge to cry. He was Philippe de Bourbon, the Duke of Anjou, brother to the King of France. He had to be brave. He would not show weakness. 

They were led out of the palace through one of the servants' entrances and Philippe saw two carriages waiting. They were not the usual royal carriages, there was no ornate decoration that would hint at the royal blood of the occupants, they were ordinary, wooden carriages such as a commoner might ride in. 

That was the point, Philippe realised. They had to slip away without being noticed. 

'King Louis will go with me,' Queen Anne announced. 'Philippe will ride with Madame de Souvre.'

'Lady mother I want to stay with you,' Philippe pleaded. He was terrified. He didn't want to be separated from his family. 

'You must do as I say ma petite fille,' Anne said firmly before climbing into the first carriage. 

Louis turned to his brother. 'Be brave brother,' he said. 'We will be together at Sainte- Germaine I promise.' 

Philippe watched Louis climb into the carriage after their mother. 

'We must hurry your majesty,' one of the guards said sharply. 'The nobles are at the door.'

Madame de Souvre took Philippe's hand and tugged him towards the second carriage. 'Your Highness we must hurry.' 

The carriages left the palace at full speed, flanked by the royal guards. Philippe turned his face away from the sight of the rioters at the gates.

'Louis told me he will make them pay,' Philippe told his governess and she smiled at him with kind eyes even though Philippe could still see the fear in her face. 

'The king has a duty to punish those who would harm his country,' she said. 'And you have a duty to him, to stand against those who would see him hurt. You must always be loyal to him. You have double the reason as he is your king and he is also your brother.'

'I know,' Philippe told her. 'I promise I will always be loyal to him. I will always have his back.'

Once there was some distance between them and the palace the night became quieter. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his system subsided and Philippe began to feel tired, though he tried to stifle his yawns. 

'Close your eyes your highness,' Madame de Souvre said softly. 'You are safe to sleep. We will not stop until we reach Sainte- Germaine.'

Philippe heeded her instructions and closed his eyes. It did not take him long to fall asleep. 

When Philippe woke it was daylight and he was lying on a soft mattress, covered with a warm blanket. He was aware of someone on the bed with him and as he opened his eyes he saw Louis, sitting up against s pillow, watching him. 

'Where am I?' Philippe asked. 

'Sainte- Germaine of course,' Louis informed him. 'Don't you remember?'

'Oh,' Philippe replied as the memory of the night came back to him. 'Of course.'

'You were asleep when we arrived,' Louis told him. 'The guards had to carry you up to bed because you wouldn't wake up. I thought perhaps you were dead or something but the snoring gave it away.' 

Philippe sat up and gave his brother a playful shove. 'I do not snore.'

'You do,' Louis replied. 'Like a pig.'

He then began to make loud snorting noises in Philippe's ear which resulted in more shoving and the pillows came into play, both boys hitting each other until they both fell down on the bed laughing. 

'I'm glad you're not dead though,' Louis said quietly when they had both calmed down. 

Philippe turned his head to look at him and saw the honesty in his brother's eyes. 'I'm glad you're not dead too,' he replied.


End file.
